


Not Really Goodbye

by nevercomestheday



Category: Fake News FPF, Fake News RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boyfriends, Crying, Endings, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Men Crying, Post-Finale, Sad, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around, sort of boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevercomestheday/pseuds/nevercomestheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon's show is ending, and as unmanly as it is, "Stephen" is afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Really Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first "Stephen"/Jon fic. It just sort of came out all at once!   
> Also, I'd like to thank SailorPtah for inspiring me to actually write something of the two of them (THEIR FANFICS ARE AMAZING!). That's also where the "Not My Real Jon" is from- sort of a nod to their story Or Perhaps Pleasure, which I loved.   
> Anyway, enjoy!

The cameras had long since cut, but Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band were still roaring through another song, and the correspondents, Jon, and the audience were still dancing. 

Stephen stood there, off to the side of the crowd, patiently waiting for Jon to get to him. He tried to look a little less anxious, tried to get into the dancing when Not My Real Jon tapped him on the shoulder.

"Stephen! Why the long face?" His thick English accent, which normally only served as a reminder to Stephen that he was a foreigner and not to be trusted, made his concern all the more apparent.

"I'm not sad, John. I'm just waiting to congratulate my friend on a good run," Stephen stated.

Not My Real Jon shrugged and went back to dancing, not one to be bothered by petty issues that weren't really his problem tonight.

 

When Jon finally met his eye, Stephen bit his lip. 

"Stephen," Jon said, rushing into another hug.

It was all Stephen could do not to tear up. He wrapped his arms around Jon, squeezing tightly. 

"Can I speak to you for just a moment? Alone?" he murmured into Jon's neck.

Sensing the tension, Jon nodded. "Sure. But I can't just..." He pulled back, looking into Stephen's puppy-dog eyes and feeling a twinge in his gut. He turned to the dancing group. "Well, I guess they won't notice if I duck out for a minute or two."

 

Stephen took Jon's hand and led him out of the studio, down the hall, and into the office. Most of Jon's things were already packed, boxes stacked along the walls. The reality of it all was hitting Stephen hard, and try as he did, he couldn't pretend it wasn't happening anymore.

"I-" Stephen started, but was interrupted by his favorite pair of lips on his own.

He moaned into the kiss, snaking his arms around Jon's waist and praying this wouldn't be the last time he'd taste the sweet relief and comfort Jon's tongue brought.

"Wait, wait," Stephen said as he pulled back. "I really need to talk to you, Jon."

A puzzled look crossed him, but Jon nodded. "Okay, what is it?"

A sharp inhale, a long exhale, and a long blink. Stephen took one of Jon's hands and squeezed it tightly. 

"When we- when my show ended, I thought- I didn't want to-" Stephen kept starting his sentences over, none good enough or strong enough to convey his message. Feelings he didn't like and would've normally stomped down into the recesses of his psyche were all bubbling up to the surface at once.

"Stephen, whatever it is, just be honest with me. I can take it." Jon's eyes shone brightly. Were those tears brimming?

Stephen sighed. "Fine. But if I start to cry, you have to pretend I'm not, okay?" His bottom lip was already quivering, and as horribly unmanly as it was, he just had to press on. For Jon.

For Jon. 

"Only if you do the same for me," Jon said with a nod. The tears in his eyes clashed harshly with the smile on his face. 

God, that smile. That lips-pressed-together, dimply, blushy, eyes-crinkling-in-the-corners smile. 

"When my show ended," Stephen began again, voice shaky and uncertain. "I was terrified of losing you. I didn't want to end this... whatever it is. But I figured, as long as you were still here, I could visit you. We'd still have the studio, this office. But now..." He looked down at the ground, calling on all his strengths not to sob. "Now you're leaving, and I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Jon. I don't want to not have you." 

When he looked back up to Jon, he found tears streaming down his friend's face. The smile was still there, but somehow, it was more transparent. It carried a different feeling.

"Stephen... We don't need the studio," Jon wept, shaking his head. 

"But you're _moving_. To _New Jersey_." His voice faltered. He moved slightly closer to Jon and took the other hand, bringing them both up to his chest. "You're leaving me."

Jon shook his head again, his smile faded and replaced by a shaking bottom lip. "Stephen, no... No..."

"But you are, Jon! You're going away and never coming back!" Stephen sobbed, dropping Jon's hands and turning to the wall.

Jon took his shoulders and turned him back almost forcefully. "Look at me, Stephen. Look at me right now," he ordered, his voice grave and low.

Stephen pulled his glasses off and looked. 

"I'm not going that far. And even if I was going to the other side of the world, I'd make time for you. I'll still see you. I'll still spend time with you. You know I couldn't live without you," Jon spoke, his tone softening with each new sentence.

"Y-you promise?" Stephen sniffled.

"Stephen, I love you." Jon stated. "I love you. I love you and I'm not ever leaving you. Not figuratively, anyway."

Stephen slipped his arms around Jon, burrowing his face into his neck. "I love you so much more," he whimpered. 

Jon rubbed his back comfortingly. "No, you don't," he chuckled through tears. "But that's not the point right now."

"I'm going to miss sneaking around the studio with you. A lot," Stephen admitted.

"So am I. But think about it this way: now we can sneak around other places together." Jon kissed the side of Stephen's head lovingly.

Stephen sniffed once, then took a deep, shaky breath from his position in the crook of Jon's neck. "Yeah, I guess we can."

"It'll be fun, like exploring. Like being pioneers, or Lewis and Clark. You love Lewis and Clark, remember? They're original American heroes, like you!" Jon smiled.

Stephen pulled back, starting to feel a little better. "That's true."

"Everything is going to be okay. I promise. It'll be different, but not bad. I know you don't love change so much, but this will be good change. I'll have a lot more free time now, you know. And I have it on good authority that you also have a lot of free time." He leaned in and kissed Stephen tenderly.

"No, you don't," Stephen said when they broke the kiss. "You're going to be spending your free time with your favorite person, me. And I also don't have any free time. I'll be with my favorite dirty liberal." 

"Dirty? Sure, I can be dirty," Jon giggled, and Stephen scoffed, trying not to laugh.

"So you promise I'll still have you?" Stephen asked timidly.

Jon wiped a stray tear from Stephen's cheek. "Always."


End file.
